Broken Faith
by Lily Thorne
Summary: “Love can sometimes be Magic. But Magic can sometimes…just be an illusion.” - A drunken mistake leaves Sango and Miroku's marriage devastated and the houshi ignorant of a rather important fact. Sango's expecting.
1. Part One: Betrayal

Here we go again! More Miroku/Sango fun (for me, anyhow) coming up! Just a note, though, please humor me until you've read at least to the end of Part One. This is going to seem really out of character at first, but once you read on, it might make a little more sense.

As well, no flames. I have no time for immature fangirl bullshit. End of story.

Disclaimer: Sango owns Miroku, and both of them (as well as the rest of the Inuyasha-tachi) belong to Takahashi Rumiko, and I just use them as my puppets.

PART ONE: BETRAYAL

_"Love can sometimes be Magic. But Magic can sometimes…just be an illusion."_

_- Javan_

_"I ought to feel hatred for this man. I know I ought to feel it, but it isn't what I do feel. What I feel is more complicated than that."_

_- Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale_

Sango smiled as the afternoon sun shone past the clouds that had begun to pass. A rainstorm had come through earlier, and the grass was wet with dew. The moisture snapped past the tops of her sandals to land on her feet, and she slipped a little. Instinctively, she put a hand to her stomach. After all, that was what needed protected now. Kirara mewed worriedly, and she gave the neko youkai a little pat on the head.

It had been almost two years since they defeated Naraku, and things were going quite well. She and Miroku had wed not long afterwards, though Inuyasha and Kagome still carried on with their tentative courtship. It had gotten better between them, though, when Kikyou was laid to rest. Sango harbored no ill will towards the finally resting miko, but she didn't think she should have walked again. The dead were meant to stay dead, so that they could be reborn. It was with that fact that she had consoled herself when she had buried Kohaku.

Pushing the impending sorrow aside with a silent prayer to her brother, she stopped at the hut that Kaede, Inuyasha, and Shippo shared.

"Konnichiwa!" she called, walking in. Shippo, who had once come to her knees, was now nearing her waist, having just gone through a growth spurt.

"Sango!" he cried, hugging her gently. Sango smiled down at him and knelt to hug him back.

"How are you?" she asked when they parted.

"I'm good. You just missed Kagome and Inuyasha, though. They went off _again_."

The taiji-ya couldn't help noting his emphasis on again, laughing as he let out a sigh of long-suffering. The noise brought Kaede in from the herb garden around the back, and she bowed to the younger woman.

"Hello, Sango," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good," the girl replied, sitting down with a quick bow. "I was ill again this morning, and I think he's beginning to suspect something. I have to tell him soon, or he'll figure it out on his own."

"You know you had to wait to be certain," Kaede reminded, shooing Shippo out of the hut, and sending Kirara with him. "Now, then, let me wash my hands quickly and I shall check you."

Sango nodded, undoing her green apron and sliding onto a tatami mat. If all was well today, she would tell Miroku. It had been quite hard over the last three months, waiting to be certain that she was, indeed, pregnant. It had also been hard to refuse her husband's lustful nature, for fear of endangering their first child. She'd make it up to him, somehow.

Kaede returned, and Sango opened her yukata so the older woman could press hand and ear to her abdomen. She also took the taiji-ya's temperature, with a slim device from Kagome's time. Bracing herself for the probing she knew would come next, Sango held her breath until it was finished. After Kaede went to wash again, she dressed, standing slowly. The old miko's face never gave anything away, and she was always left guessing until she was told something.

The older woman entered, and Sango waited impatiently for her to speak. A wicked gleam caught Kaede's eye as she looked at her, and the taiji-ya bobbed her head, urging her on.

"All is well," she said. "It's safe to tell him."

Sango gave a whoop of joy and hugged the old woman, running out of the hut and nearly running over Inuyasha and Kagome as they returned. Inuyasha growled as he helped Kagome up.

"What the hell are you rushing for?"

The girl gave an impish grin and ignored the hanyou, dragging her young friend off for a moment to giggle away. Inuyasha, slightly confused and annoyed, gave a little 'keh' and sat down to wait.

"Sango-chan!" Kagome cried in joy, hugging her friend. "I'm so happy for you!"

Sango hugged her back, grinning like an idiot.

"Well, I'm happy as well. I can't wait to tell him! Though I bet he all ready knows."

"Surprise him anyway," Kagome suggested, stroking Kirara's back. The tiny cat had leapt up to her lap when she and Sango had settled down on a large rock nearby. She knew that Sango and Miroku would have children eventually, but now that it was really happening, it was even more wonderful than she had imagined. Her friend was glowing with pride and joy, and Kagome wished she could get a picture of Miroku's face when she told him.

"Aa, I will," she replied. "But let's go tell Inuyasha, before he gets too grouchy."

Inuyasha, true to form, had blinked mildly, commented that it had taken them long enough, and asked Kagome if she had any ramen.

Too overjoyed to be seriously annoyed by his lack of care, Sango had hugged them both, as well as Shippo – who had known all along – before hurrying towards the hut she shared with Miroku.

To think, she was finally going to give Miroku what he'd wanted for the longest time – an heir. They had stayed up late often since their marriage, talking about what it'd be like when they were parents. She had learned so much about his past when they did that, how he was raised, the few memories of his father he had. She, in turn, had told him about life as a taiji-ya, and even spoken in choppy amounts about her own family.

She knew now, from those nights, that Miroku wouldn't care if it was a boy or a girl, and neither did she. She didn't know if she could last until dinner, but she had a mental idea running of how she would tell him.

_"Dinner's ready, koi," she called, sitting down. Moments later, Miroku joined her, nibbling at the rice before asking about her day._

_"Well," she replied. "I saw Inuyasha and Kagome, I'm pregnant, and I got most of the weeds out of the garden."_

It was a silly idea, but she would go for it anyway. After all, the look of shock on her husband's face would be worth waiting a little longer to tell him. How perfect was this?

She lifted the door-flap and walked in, Kirara beside her, smiling as she opened her mouth to say she was home, and found she had lost her voice.

A broken bottle of what had been sake lay, empty and shattered next to the tatami mats she had woven together for them to share. The scent of the wine was apparent, as well as a musty scent she didn't want to place.

Miroku lay, propped up on his elbows on the mats, and had yet to notice she was there. Behind him, leisurely undoing his robes was a woman she didn't recognize. As she fiddled with the knot at his shoulder, she placed butterfly kisses down his jaw and neck, and Miroku smiled drunkenly. His eyes, however, were clear, and Sango knew that it wasn't just wine he was drunk on. He reached up with one hand as he lay sprawled on the mat, and made an attempt to help the woman with the knot.

A tiny sound of shock escaped Sango's throat, and it was enough to catch the happy couple's attention. Miroku's face suddenly lost the blissful expression as he laid eyes on his wife, who was standing straight up, hands clenched into fists.

"Sango," he started, and the woman smirked, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Who's that?" she asked mildly, and that was the breaking point for Sango. To not only take another woman to his bed, but to the bed they shared, the bed her child was to come from –

Oh God. Her child.

"Get out," she whispered coldly, fighting to keep her head clear of her emotions. A puzzled and worried look crossed Miroku's face, and he moved as if to reach for her. She stepped back, out of the doorway.

"Get out of here, both of you," she said a little louder, trying not to let her voice shake. The woman got up and walked out, Sango noting sourly that she wore the shoulders of her yukata low and tight. The taiji-ya waited for Miroku to leave as well. She wanted him gone, away from her. She was barely able to look at him as she wondered, how many times?

"Sango, I –"

"Houshi-sama, I – I can't speak to your right now, or ever again. Please leave," she said, her voice wobbling at the word 'leave'. How could this have happened? How could she have been so stupid as to think he would be loyal? All she could think of at that moment was the betrayal; the blind breaking of the trust she had given him. The only thing she felt was cold, though she knew that wouldn't last long.

Miroku was shocked to hear the old nickname after over a year of disuse, and she watched as he realized that she would not be forgiving him this time. He stood, slowly, and began to walk towards the door, out the door, and across the clearing. Before he made it to the forest, however, he heard Sango's voice calling out to him. He turned, and what he saw hit him in the chest, though the full brunt of what he had done was not to hit him until long after he had sobered up.

Sango, his brave, beautiful taiji-ya – no, not his any longer, she was having nothing to do with him now – stood at the door to the hut they had shared, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

"How many times, houshi-sama? I want the truth."

He stared at her a long while, before nodding. He owed her the truth, though she may not believe it.

"Only once," he said just loud enough for her to hear, before he walked out, into the forest, and away from her.

As she watched the houshi's retreating back, Sango felt her carefully kept control going brittle, and forced herself to walk into the house.

She made it into the door and over to the broken jug to clean it up. When the mess was tidied, she turned to packing. She couldn't stay here, with all the memories they'd shared swirling around her. It was a vortex, ripping through the hole in her heart and tearing it even wider. She threw things haphazardly into a bag, rushing to get out of the hut as fast as she could, before Miroku returned under the pretense of collecting his own belongings.

The only thing she could think about was the deep, steady ache in her, the nagging feeling that she would be ripped apart at any moment. She bitterly remembered something Kagome had said once.

'What goes up, must come down.'

Smiling with acerbic humor, she continued to throw things into the bag. Had things ever come down quickly, though. One moment she was rushing home joyously, and the next she was here, leaving her home.

The bag filled quickly, and she walked over to collect hiraikotsu and be on her way. Bending to pick up the weapon, she saw Miroku's shakujo lying next to it, and the tiny, slender-spun threads of her control snapped.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, not caring when she cut her arm on the edge of Miroku's weapon. He had hurt her far worse than it ever could.

Kirara gave a tiny meow, worried for her mistress, but Sango didn't hear.

How dare he do this to her? She had given him her heart, and he had tossed it away like so much trash. She had meant that little to him. Had he laughed the day after their marriage, when she was off hunting demons, drinking sake at a brothel as usual? She didn't know what to think. Just when she had begun to smile again, really smile, this happened. Hadn't he sworn off his old habits when they were wed?

He had been there for Kohaku's death, wrapping her up in his warmth when she cried herself to sleep the night of his burial. But even that warmth had been false, she thought. He had been everything she wanted everything that she really wanted from life. Now that was gone, taken away by drunken kisses and a willing young woman.

There would have been more girls, she supposed, that he would bring home and tumble, only to play the dutiful husband when she arrived home. He would continue to defy her, to play games with the life they had made. It would have been a sort of gamble, a joke, to him.

_'Damn you, houshi-sama,' _she thought.

It wasn't until she touched her cheeks that she realized she had been crying.

A rapping on the wall beside the door alerted her to someone's presence. Refusing to back down if it was Miroku, she brushed the tears from her face and straightened, opening the flap.

"Miroku just walked through town looking like a lost puppy," Kagome said quietly. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Sango replied with as much strength as she could muster. Kagome walked in, raising an eyebrow disbelievingly. When Sango shrugged, the younger girl gave a gasp.

"Sango-chan!" she cried. "You're hurt!"

The other girl looked at her arm, remembering that she had cut it in the shakujo.

"It's nothing," she assured her friend. "Just a superficial cut."

"Superficial nothing! You're coming with me to Kaede's so I can clean this up."

"Do you think Kaede would mind if I stayed there a little while?" Sango asked. Kagome shrugged.

"I don't know, though I suppose she would."

Nodding mutely, Sango collected her bag, hiraikotsu, and Kirara before leaving the hut, and the memories, behind.

When the two reached Kaede's, the older woman asked no questions about why Sango suddenly needed to stay, only told her that she'd need to help out a little from time to time. The taiji-ya was relieved. Her happy ending was gone, so she would start a new life elsewhere. A group of villagers had begun to build a new village for the taiji-ya, maybe she would live there. The one thing she knew for certain was that she would never go back to that hut.

Inuyasha came blazing in a few minutes later, asking why he smelt blood. Sango had shrugged, saying she had cut herself cooking lunch. Reminded that they all needed to eat, Kaede put Shippo and Inuyasha to work, giving Kagome a look that Sango suspected meant 'talk to her'.

Kagome volunteered herself and the older girl to go get fish, and Kaede agreed, so they were off. They walked in silence, Kirara nestled on Sango's shoulder, until they reached the stream. When they sat down, Kagome threw the lines – thin twine from the village tied around a stick – into the stream and tied a tiny bell to the top before steadying the sticks in the ground. The bait was cheese, something Kagome hoped would work.

"It's an idea Souta gave me," she explained. A moment of silence longer, waiting for the tiny bells to ring as the fish bit, and Kagome pounced.

"Sango, what's wrong?" she asked. "And don't say it's nothing."

The taiji-ya shrugged.

"I said it was nothing out of the ordinary. Don't worry about it."

Her young friend gave her a sad look.

"What's ordinary?" she asked. Sango found a blade of grass growing beside her, and was immediately fascinated. Kagome sat, waiting for an answer, and she sighed.

"Houshi-sama's just being himself, is all."

"Stop answering with riddles," Kagome scolded, a cold fear creeping into her heart. "Tell me what happened to make you want to leave."

She hadn't heard Sango call Miroku by that name since before they were married, and it worried her. Often she had heard her use it as a tease, but now, she was replacing Miroku's name again. Distancing herself.

A sharp tinkling noise filled the air and Sango jumped to her fishing line, happy for the distraction. Pulling not one but two – she grabbed Kagome's rod as well – fish up, she grinned.

"If we cut these up and boil them there should be enough for everyone out of these, if we have rice!" she said quickly, starting back.

"Let's go, I bet the boys are hungry."

Kagome watched the girl rush off, Kirara trailing after the fish and her mistress, and gave a worried sigh.

_'What happened between you and Miroku?'_ she thought to herself, _'to cause this reaction?'_

They ate lunch in silence, the tension almost tangible in the air. The terseness left the group worried about Sango, who had finished her meal quickly and rushed off with Kirara. When the girl was no more than a speck in the air, Kagome sighed.

"She told me nothing," she informed her companions, threading her fingers with Inuyasha's. Almost unconsciously, he squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. It was the closest to a true display of affection they ever got. Kaede nodded, but a worried expression crossed her face.

"I do not know what sort of stress this will put on the babe, but I fear for their health," she said. "Perhaps she would speak more freely to Shippo? She does not wish to worry us, though she might open up to a young one more easily."

"I'll be extra cute," Shippo promised, and scurried outside, becoming a large, pink bubble. It took him a little while, but soon he caught up to the taiji-ya and Kirara, flopping down on the neko's back with a sigh.

"You know," he said solemnly, "you're probably worrying them more by not telling them."

Sango's head whipped around, and she looked down to see Shippo sitting with his arms and legs folded like Inuyasha, a serious look on his face. How had she not noticed him before? Taking note of what he said, she sighed and faced the front.

"They shouldn't worry at all. It's my problem – I'll deal with it."

The kitsune gave a little 'tch' of annoyance and tugged on the back of her hair. She spun around again, getting a little annoyed. Why couldn't they see that she had to do this on her own?

"You can't do everything alone, Sango! Now either you're going to tell me, or Kirara will," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Kirara gave a growl of agreement, jostling her riders gently. Sango gaped.

"You can do that?"

"Yes, I can!" Shippo lied. Hoping Sango didn't remember that youkai that couldn't take human form couldn't talk like that, he grinned wickedly.

Sango sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. While lesser youkai couldn't speak, they could send images, and understand most speech. Kirara had seen it all.

"How about I talk to Kagome-chan?" she said. Shippo seemed to consider this for a minute, before nodding.

"That works," he said. "Now let's go!"

Giving a quick nod, the three of them started their way back toward the village.

_'So much for a quick flight to clear my head,'_ she sighed to herself. Upon returning to camp, she sought out the smiling young girl, who sat next to the fire, talking to Inuyasha. The two of them looked up, and Kagome smiled.

"Hello, Sango-chan," she said quietly. Sango smiled back weakly.

"Hello, Kagome-chan."

"Inuyasha, go please," Kagome said, putting a hand on his arm. Sango's heart gave a little twinge. She'd never noticed that before. Since their awkward courtship had started, they were always doing little things like that. Holding hands, touching arms, shoulders, sharing small smiles.

She remembered the comfort that she had gotten from the houshi's presence alone, and how she had thought herself able to talk to him. They would spend time off on their own, even when hunting down Naraku, just talking. It hurt to know they had it all, and that those tiny comforts were gone.

Inuyasha nodded, and got up. Before he left, however, he nodded to Sango, a gesture of what? Was it condolence, respect, worry? Whatever it was, it comforted her, and she nodded back. When he was gone, she sat down next to Kagome.

The younger girl smiled, and waited for her to begin. How had she known that Sango needed to talk? Was she that obvious? Probably…

"I left here fine," she started. "and got to the hut all right. I was going to wait until dinner to tell him, I had a little plan and everything…I never got to tell him."

Kagome nodded, worried. The cold fear that had begun to run through her blood at the stream was beginning to return. She had a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind, and she wished desperately that it wasn't true.

Sango willed her voice to stay strong, reminding herself that he didn't deserve her tears.

"I walked in, and there they were. He was…eager. And drunk. There was no mistaking it. There was willingness on both sides," she continued quietly, and Kagome gave a hiss of sympathy. So she had been right. Miroku had gone back to his old ways. How could he?

"Oh God, Sango…" she whispered, wrapping her arms around her friend in a hug. Sango was looking down, and reached up with one hand to pat the girl's arm.

"That's the gist of it," she said. "Houshi-sama will never change, will he?"

It wasn't a question, and Kagome knew it. They sat there a long time, not saying anything. Neither of them knew what to say.

Outside, Inuyasha frowned. Miroku had been grabbing other girl's again, had he? Idiot. He hopped up, giving a little stretch before jumping into the forest, in search of the houshi's scent.

Miroku's robes were laying not far from where he stood under the waterfall, his face serene, though his mind was in turmoil.

He hadn't meant to fall back into old habits, though the warning bells had gone off when he walked into the garden and saw the young woman sitting there. He had only meant to bring her in for a drink, her nerves had seemed to be raw.

Things had progressed from there, and after they had somehow managed to finish an entire jar of well-made (and rather potent) sake, her profuse thanks turning into a heated kiss across the table. It was then that the sake jug had broken, as they stumbled toward the tatami mat. They hadn't been long into things when Sango appeared at the doorway, looking like the world was ending. Theirs was, really. He hadn't known what to say, to do. The young woman had followed him again after he left, but he had shrugged her off.

"You didn't care a few minutes ago, before that wench stumbled in," she had protested. Miroku turned sharply on his heel then, explaining that that was no wench, but his wife, and that she'd do well to remember that.

Feeling a little lost, knowing that he could never put what he had done to right, he had stumbled over to the falls to meditate. Not much meditating was being done, however, just a good lot of mental berating.

He had it all with Sango – a friend, a lover, a wife, and he had totally forgotten that at the first touch. So much for a happy ending. And it was all his fault. Miroku wanted so badly to go crashing back towards that hut and demand that she listen, and accept his apology, but he refused that urge. Sango deserved better than that.

In a way, the girl had been right. He hadn't cared, not about the warning going off in his head while she palmed his erection or the memory that he had a wife as they stumbled down to the floor in a tangle of hands and lips.

A crash brought his attention to the present, and he realized it was nearing almost sunset. In a few hours, there would be dark. He needed to find somewhere to camp, but for now he had to pay attention to the red figure in front of him.

…Red?

"You fucking idiot!" Inuyasha yelled. Miroku stumbled out from under the water, going for his robes, but Inuyasha caught him first and hit him hard in the face, sending him to the ground.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he growled, standing over the fallen monk, who was nursing his jaw and looking at him.

"In my defense –" he started, rising, but Inuyasha pushed him down again.

"You don't get a damn defense, bouzu. Sango's sitting at Kaede's hut right now, the picture of misery and it's _your fault._"

Miroku looked down. Sango was hurting…because of him…

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked bitterly, standing slowly, in case Inuyasha thought he should stay seated. The hanyou threw his robes at him, and Miroku caught them quickly, pulling them on.

"Damned if I know, I'm not the one who was two-timing his wife." Inuyasha's voice was full of loathing. "You've done some pretty low things before, bouzu, but this is the worst. You're lucky I don't fucking tear you apart right here."

Miroku nodded mutely, trying not to think about the woman, Sango, anything. The mental anguish he was currently putting himself through couldn't be worse than what she was experiencing. He honestly didn't know why he had done it, but there was no way to change the fact.

"Sango doesn't even want to see your face now, I bet, so stay the fuck away from her."

"How –" Miroku started, but stopped himself. A deep sense of remorse had filled him, and somehow he felt that there was no way to remove it. How could he have done this?

With that, Inuyasha jumped off; the deep anger that had pricked his heart partially satiated. He'd jump around a little to work it off, but he didn't think it would do much. Sango was his comrade, a good fighter, and she didn't deserve to be treated so callously. How could he have done this, dammit! Hadn't Sango given him everything he wanted?

Miroku shook himself off, and touched his cheek gingerly. It was starting to swell, but he ignored it. It would heal. With that, he started back to the village, planning to collect his belongings as he did. He wouldn't be going back to the hut after that. He wouldn't bother Sango if she didn't want to see him.

The long walk took him until the twighlight had begun to set in, and as he passed through the village a voice stopped him.

"Miroku!" someone called, and he turned to see Kagome. Her face was hard, her footsteps firm as she walked up to him. He stood ready to accept whatever she thought to deal him.

"I thought you were better than that, Miroku," she said quietly, looking him in the eye. He saw disappointment in her face, and regret. Somehow, those few whispered words hurt him more than Inuyasha's anger and violence.

Kagome turned back to walk inside and a look of shock crossed her face. Sango stood with her hair fully unbound, apron discarded and yukata loose in the wind.

"Houshi-sama," she breathed, and Miroku winced. Kagome rushed over to her and whispered something in her ear that Miroku couldn't hear. Sango shrugged and walked forward, though her young friend's gaze stayed locked on the two of them, worried.

Sango had been sitting in the hut when Kagome got up and walked out. Shippo and Inuyasha had traded looks, but ignored her when she asked what the other girl was doing. Kaede had patted her shoulder and told her not to worry about it, just to finish her dinner. Instead, she had risen before anyone could stop her and left, only to see Miroku standing there.

His jaw was swollen, and she wondered what had happened to him. Kaede had done another check-up, to make sure the stress hadn't hurt the babe, so her apron was still on the ground. She had taken out her hair tie earlier, wanting to go to the hot springs. Inuyasha had advised against it, not saying why, though now she wondered if Miroku had been there.

His face was fallen, and he didn't meet her eyes as she walked forward to see him. Her hand reached up, almost of it's own accord, and touched his cheek gently. It was starting to purple, and she quashed a longing to take him home and make a poultice for it. The hut was no longer her home, and was the only reason she was speaking to him now.

"I won't be returning to the hut," she said simply, keeping her voice toneless. "Do with it what you will."

Miroku looked shock and she turned to leave, making it almost a full step before he said her name. She stopped, turning her head to gaze sorrowfully at him.

"Goodbye, Houshi-sama," she told him, and kept moving. He called her name once more, but she ignored it, waiting until she had entered Kaede's home to collapse again. There was one fact, she realized, that she couldn't deny, no matter how hard she wanted to.

She still loved him.

Miroku made it into the hut before the rain got too bad, though he was still soaked. He pulled his hair out of the dragon tail it was in, shaking his head to dispel the wet droplets. Looking around, he realized something was off. Hiraikotsu was gone from the corner, dried spots of something Miroku suspected to be blood spattered the floor and his shakujo. All of Sango's belongings were gone, he realized.

All of this, he realized, was because of a sudden…compulsion, he had gotten. The moment her lips had touched his, a dizzy, heady feeling that he remembered from long ago had drowned the warning bells out. The sweet feeling had been helped along liberally by wild amounts of sake, though Miroku didn't know how. A part of him had been screaming hands off, while the other (louder) part of him had simply told him to grab an opportunity.

Going through their home, Miroku noted that the mess had been cleaned up, and the jar was probably buried elsewhere. Mechanically, he made himself something to eat, only to stumble upon a forgotten item. Sango's spare apron lay beside the fire-pit, apparently forgotten in a rush to leave. The blue cloth had been a gift from Shippo, who had earned money with his little tricks until he had enough to buy her a birthing-day gift.

Sitting down, Miroku breathed in her scent from the apron. He fell asleep there, lying next to the untouched meal he had made; her clothing held tight to his chest.


	2. Part Two: Renewal

Hello! I'm back with Part Two of the hellbent-story. Please enjoy, and again, the keywords are _No Flames_.

Disclaimer: If I owned Inuyasha, it wouldn't be called FANfiction, now would it? Now go away and sue some poor old lady, you damn lawyers.

PART TWO: RENEWAL

_"You are my true and honorable wife."_

_- William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar_

_"A woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her...but she can never forgive him for the sacrifices he makes on her account."_

_-W. Somerset Maugham_

---

A little over a month later, Sango walked into the home she shared with Kaede, Inuyasha, and Shippo. Kirara was lying on her shoulder, snoozing in the cool morning air. She and the neko had been for another ride, as they did almost every day first thing in the morning. Inuyasha looked up to see her come in and offered her a hand. Swatting at him good-naturedly, she shook her head.

"I'm not that fat yet, Inuyasha."

Her stomach was, however, starting to show tangible signs of progress, and she had long ago given up wearing an apron over her yukata. Kagome called her a little paranoid, but left it be when Sango explained she didn't want the constricting clothing over her tummy for fear of the babe's health.

Kaede had agreed with Kagome, but informed them that if it made the taiji-ya feel better, that was the important part.

Over the time she had been there, she had been slowly trying to wean herself off Miroku. For almost a full two weeks after her arrival, she had started sentences meant for him. 'Miroku, pass me the rice,' or 'Miroku, can you go get some fish for supper.' But every time, she had stopped herself after a few words, reminding herself that Miroku wasn't there.

It was difficult, and she lost a lot of sleep, only to dream of what had happened when she did. The worst part was bumping into him.

It had happened first about a week ago, when they had both reached for a bolt of cloth at the same time. She had felt his hand cover hers, and it froze her to the bone, yet warmed her. In a rush, the feelings she had been trying to forget were pulled to the surface, and she turned away, afraid of what would happen if she stayed; yet she wasn't able to turn before meeting his eyes once. They were the same warm violet, the same ones that threatened to crash through her so-called control and had done so many times.

Arriving back at the hut moments later, breathless, she had dismissed it as a 'weird feeling', and said no more when Kagome asked. It had been so terribly wonderful, and she didn't want to think about what could have happened if they had spoken even a word.

Banishing the thoughts of him from her mind, she smiled at the gruff look Inuyasha wore. Kagome would be coming back around twighlight, and he was (as always) impatient for her return, though he wouldn't ever say as much. Shippo sat beside him, and Sango was hard-pressed not to burst into giggles as she saw how similar they were. Both sitting in the same arms-and-legs-crossed position, looking intently at the fire before them, ears twitching from time to time. The only true difference was Shippo's look of eagerness, compared to the stern visage that Inuyasha had. They were so alike, and she was willing to bet they didn't even know it.

After eating a swift breakfast, she announced her plan to go to the hot springs, before Kagome came back. The boys had let out little noises of acknowledgement so similar that they looked at each other in horror, and Sango had to hurry so that she could laugh freely. Collecting a soft 'towel' given to her by Kagome, as well as the little block of something called soap; she rushed off, eager to relax away from Inuyasha and Inuyasha Jr.

---

Dawn came slowly, far too slowly for Miroku, who had lost much sleep that night, for the first time since he had run into Sango at the market. He kept dreaming of her, her smiles, warm touches, and cool composure. It was odd, and he shook himself, rising. They hadn't spoken a word to one another since the night that she left his life forever, and he regretted every day that he didn't demand that they talk it out. But something held him back, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him he had no right to demand – or even ask – anything of her.

Getting up as the sun rose, he looked out toward where he knew she would be staying. Ignoring the feeling that had never left him, the one of a cold knife in the pit of his stomach, he went through his routine of fishing, weeding, and cooking breakfast with stoic temperance. He had just put the kettle on to boil when he realized the sun was getting higher quickly, and that the hot springs would soon be warm enough to bathe in comfortably. Perhaps it would even be warm by the time he was done eating, he mused to himself.

As he finished breakfast and washed the dishes in the stream, he began the trek towards the spring with a stubbornly blank face.

They entered the clearing at almost the same instant, but it took them a moment to notice that there was someone else in the vicinity. The turmoil caused by the coincidence was all behind their eyes, as they took in each other's presence. Wondering which God she had pissed off now, Sango turned to leave as Miroku forced himself to look up.

It was in that small instant that the bulge of Sango's stomach was most visible.

Miroku was slack-jawed for a moment, before he called her name.

"Sango! Sango, wait," he called, dropping the lava stone he had brought with him to scrub. She didn't look at him, but she stopped moving, her eyes cast down. Oh God, how could this happen? She wasn't supposed to see him again, let alone talk to him.

"Hello, Houshi-sama," she said in a small but firm voice, her hand placed gently over her stomach in a futile attempt at hiding the roundness of it.

"Do you carry a pack around your waist, Sango?" he asked, looking at her stomach. Judging from what he could see, she had to be at least four months along, give or take. Which meant…the child she carried would have to be his. The warmth that had begun to fill him at this thought was quelled when he realized that in order for her to be this far along, she would have been carrying the babe when he…

"No, I don't," she replied quietly, all the while cursing herself for her honesty. He nodded, not saying a word and the taiji-ya peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

"Yours," she breathed quietly, almost too quietly for Miroku to hear, and would have been, had his thoughts not been quite similar.

Sango straightened, refusing to give in to this again. It wouldn't happen, she couldn't let it. For her child's sake, if not for her own, she couldn't let him back in.

"But that fact is of no consequence," she said firmly, bending to collect the items she had dropped. "I suppose I should go, you're probably meeting someone."

Miroku was stunned, and hurt, but he knew that she had every right to say what she had. But somehow…he couldn't let her leave without saying one thing.

"I'm meeting no-one," he said honestly. "and I'm sorry that you would think such a thing."

"What am I supposed to think?" Sango asked. She had begun to walk away, and she didn't bother to turn around now, though she had stopped. "That you've spent the last month and a half playing prude?"

"You would be correct if you did."

The taiji-ya spun around, eyes glistening with tears.

"Stop it!" she cried. "Stop it right now!"

"Stop what?" Miroku asked, thoroughly puzzled.

"Stop being so…nice! You think that you can just say a few words and I'll come back to you like a lost little puppy? That's not how it works!"

A long silence passed between them at those words, though it was Miroku who eventually broke it.

"I never expected…to get you back, nor do I now," he said in a low voice. "All I want is for you to stop hurting on my account. You shouldn't spend your time thinking about some echhi houshi."

"Stop hurting?" Sango's voice was bitter with disbelief. "That didn't happen, Houshi-sama, and I don't expect it ever will."

The monk nodded, and turned to walk away. Somehow, hearing her tell him that she would never stop hurting had stung more than when he had seen her face that afternoon. Maybe it was the sting of knowing that had he only pushed the girl away after her first advance, then he and Sango would be sitting at home, talking…together. Almost to the edge of the forest, he heard her call out:

"Why?"

He turned, and saw her sitting on the ground, hands fisted in her lap.

"We were so happy…or at least, I was," she whispered. "Houshi-sama, wasn't I good enough?"

Words.

They had been speaking to one another since he first met her, words showing how they felt, or didn't feel, or what they thought. They had always seemed simple, innocent, easily passed from one person to another. Now, however, each word seemed to be a knife, and in the distant back of his mind he wondered how simple noise could hurt so much.

"I don't think," he said slowly, "That it is a case of you not being good enough. It is my fault alone that this happened. If you want, I will leave now, and you need never hear from me again, child or none."

The silence, curdling the air and freezing all time and noise, lasted a long while, swimming around them like a malicious imp.

"I ought to hate you."

Miroku blinked as Sango got up, walking towards him.

"I ought to despise you, wish you dead and gone, that you and I had never met."

The houshi's eyes never left hers as she walked until she stood in front of him. Sango looked at him, probing him for some sign of fakery, of that player's nature he flaunted so easily. Finding none, she thought she felt a tiny flame light inside her as she took his hand and placed it over her stomach.

"Yet somehow, I can't," she said quietly. "For some stupid, unknown reason…I can't hate you. Not ever."

It took all the willpower Miroku had not to sweep her into his arms at those words, to tell her that he loved her as well, that he would never be away from her again. But she wasn't finished, so he listened intently.

"I'm still hurt, and angry, but if for no other reason than I will not punish my child for your lechery, I don't want you to leave."

Miroku was in awe, the tiny flame that Sango had felt finding its way into him as well, but with a name.

Hope.

With those words, Sango fled the clearing, Kirara aiding her in flight. Miroku stood rooted to the spot, staring after her until she was no longer in sight. For Sango's part, she tried not to look back more than twice, but failed.

They progressed like that over the next few weeks, Sango taking the first step towards recovering even the slightest bit by coming to the hut they had once shared a few days later. Tiny snippets of conversation between them, mostly Sango asking questions and Miroku answering, but a lot was said about the upcoming birth as well.

Yet for some reason, it wasn't until the taiji-ya was well into her seventh month of pregnancy that she asked what had happened that day.

They sat on opposite sides of the table in their hut, Sango with a little more difficulty. Finally, she gave up and slid onto the three-legged stool that was the newest addition to their furniture. Shippo had made it, arriving at the home she and Miroku had begun to share once more with a wide smile and the stool, a bow tied of ragged red fabric Sango later found out was part of Kaede's hakama.

Now, she sat upon the item, Miroku looking at her, doing his best to keep eye contact. An awkward, tense moment passed between them before he began to speak. How was it, he wondered, that it was easier for words to be spoken in anger than in honesty?

"It was long since you had left," he started. "And I had gone out to collect some herbs for lunch from the garden. She…was sitting near the edge of the fence, and looked like she had been crying. When I asked what was wrong, I got only erratic, agitated words. I invited her in for a drink – a small cup of warm sake to relax her."

Sango blinked. Holding up her hand, a sign that had come to mean she wanted to ask something, she asked:

"Your intentions were benign?"

"Yes. There was a little warning in the back of my mind, but I thought no harm in helping someone so distressed."

"Go on," Sango replied, reminding herself that he had sworn to be totally honest, and willing to help prove himself trustworthy again.

"I never got the full reason why she was aggrieved, but one cup of sake turned into another, and potent as it is, another. Before long, the both of us were quite…inebriated. She was thanking me for my hospitality, and it was then that she kissed me."

Sango listened quietly, one hand lying on her stomach. They had agreed that there would be no lurid details, and hearing what had started it stung and soothed her at the same time.

"In our haste to reach the mat, the sake jar was broken, and it was not long after that when you entered."

"That's everything?" she asked. Miroku nodded.

"Everything," he confirmed. They didn't say anything for a while, not really looking at each other. It was Sango who first breached this, her eyes landing on his face as she said a quiet:

"Thank you."

Miroku looked up, meeting her gaze, and understood. Thank you, she was saying, for telling me honestly. Thank you for not leaving.

He smiled wearily at her, and she slid down off her chair, and into his arms. The warmth from his chest spilled into her body, and she leaned back.

Things had gotten rough, and she realized that Miroku probably wouldn't have strayed had circumstances been different. Had he not drank as much sake as he had, or if the woman (she refused to lower herself to even thinking of her with unkind words) had not initiated the kiss, then maybe it would have been different. Maybe she would have stumbled upon her husband sitting across from an anxious young woman, offering her a small comfort. Maybe she wouldn't have been there at all, only have been a story to be told upon her return from Kaede's.

Something fluttered hard in her stomach and she gave a small gasp.

Miroku looked at her worriedly, and met only his wife's awe-filled face. Awkwardly and hurriedly, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach so he, too, would feel it. The houshi's face soon matched hers, and he asked what it was.

"It's happened before," she said. "At Kaede's. She and Kagome say that it's the babe kicking."

He smiled.

"The babe is strong, then," he said. "Like its mother."

Sango gave a tentative laugh, as did Miroku. It was the first time since before the incident, as she was silently calling it, and with it, came something else.

Hope.

Hope had sprung from the sot in the clearing months ago, when Sango had asked him not to leave, and hope sprung now from their tiny home, as they let themselves open up to one another.

Over the period of time in which they awaited the child's arrival, things proceeded in an almost natural fashion. Miroku left on his own only if necessary, and if he did, was always prompt, telling his wife exactly where he had been and what he had been doing, even if she was the one who sent him on the errand. It was part of what he did to help make Sango feel a little more emotionally secure, and it had been his idea entirely.

Well, almost.

Kagome had sat him down after he and Sango had come to a tentative truce, and explained what exactly needed to happen.

"This is about Sango," she had told him firmly. "It's about making her feel safe and secure, and helping her to trust you again. This takes just as long as _she_ needs it to, and not a day shorter."

This had become a longer scolding, with many hints that Miroku was currently finding particularly helpful. Of course, the end of her little tirade had been much different.

"Remember," she had said. "It's all too easy for me to hide the Tessuaiga and put you in Inuyasha's path if you do this again."

He had to give her points for inventiveness, though she needn't have worried. Having come so close to losing everything he held dear once, he was not about to do it again.

Currently, he was making Onigiri, Sango's cravings for it running almost a week now. She sat beside him, waiting patiently. Sitting for any length of time, however, had become uncomfortable, and she stood awkwardly, sighing when Miroku dropped what he was doing to help her.

"You don't need to do that. I can get up on my own."

"Liar," he teased. "You almost fell over yesterday."

"I did no such thing," she replied with mock indignation. He smiled at her, and helped her to the stool that she had become so fond of. She had become a little more introverted since the incident, more like when he had first met her. But from time to time, he thought he saw flashes of the Sango he had once had, and the Sango he hoped to have once again someday. He knew he would have to earn it, but was not against the idea.

Nothing worth doing was easy, he had found, and if returning things to the way they once were wasn't worth trying, what was?

His mind was brought to the present when Sango gave a tiny noise of shock, almost covered by the sound of…water? He looked over at her, concerned, only to find her staring, wide-eyed, at the wet floor, and her even damper yukata.

She cried out and stumbled a little, wincing in pain. Miroku caught her, swearing violently as he settled her on the ground. The baby was coming, and he cursed himself for being unready. They knew it would be due soon, and should have moved her to Kaede's long ago.

When the pain passed, Sango struggled to stand, moving toward the door.

"Don't move!" Miroku urged, sticking his head out of the hut. As luck would have it, one of the villagers was passing by on the way back from the stream – or so Miroku supposed from the fish slung over his back.

Find Kaede-sama!" he cried, startling the man. "Quickly, and send her here!"

The man nodded, looking a little confused, but set off in a run. Sango had not played the quiet, peacefully expectant woman; instead refusing to let the pregnancy stop her from moving around, and it had indeed been a battle to coax her into staying home at her eighth month. This stubborn streak was showing itself now as she struggled to stand and walk, only to be floored by another shooting pain across her abdomen.

Miroku came to knees beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Sango, stay here. Kaede is on her way."

She gritted her teeth and scowled up at her husband.

"I'll be fine," she said brokenly. "Just get me to Kaede's."

"She's coming here, koi." Miroku squeezed her hand gently, and winced when his wife – strong as ever, apparently – squeezed back quite hard. Sweat had appeared on her face, and she was apparently in pain again.

Not long after, Kaede entered the room and shooed him away.

"We'll tell you when you can come in," she said firmly, shutting the flap behind him. He heard Sango give a tiny cry of pain, and frowned. Why couldn't he come in?

"Stay put, bouzu," a gruff voice said from behind him. "You go in there, and you'll die before seeing that kid of yours."

Inuyasha threw a clear jar of sorts – a plastic bottle, he remembered dimly – at him and he opened the top, drinking deeply of the water before closing it. Determined to keep himself distracted until he was allowed inside, he smiled grimly and turned to Inuyasha.

"So how's Kagome?" he asked.

---

It was almost sundown before he was allowed in the hut. He had refused to leave for supper, forcing Inuyasha to leave and collect some Onigiri for them. Kagome had been brought back earlier by the hanyou as well, but she seemed to be a little more patient than Miroku.

"Inuyasha and I will wait until you and Sango are ready," she had said happily.

The monk, rather impatient had rushed into the hut the moment he had been allowed. What he saw floored him entirely, though.

Sango lay propped up by sleeping blocks on a tatami mat, breathless and sweaty. Her hair clung to her face only the smallest bit, and she looked worn out, but happy. He walked over to sit next to her, and she smirked at him.

"You finally have your child, houshi-sama," she teased, and he smiled. She looked beautiful, and his mind shot back for only a fraction of a second, to his own mother, who had not survived birthing a cursed child. Sango did not have this difficulty, and she held their child out to him.

"Want to hold her?" she asked. Miroku gave her a baffled look, and his smile widened.

"A girl?"

"Yes. What do you want to name her?"

She was letting him…name their child? He blinked.

"Kaiyo," he said after a moment.

Sango nodded. Forgiveness. A fitting name for their tiny daughter, who stared up at her with wide blue eyes that crossed a little. Kaede had assured her it was normal, and that the child would learn to focus within a week or so. She handed the child to Miroku, who took her awkwardly.

"Support her whole body," Sango instructed, helping him. "Especially her head. Be careful."

Miroku looked down at the child, and felt something in him glow. His daughter…

To think that he had almost missed this was terrifying, and he refused the idea completely. Leaning down carefully as he handed the babe to her mother, he kissed Sango on the forehead.

"She's beautiful, Sango. Just like you."

The woman laughed, and Miroku curled up next to her, putting his arms around her so that she lay against his chest, holding their daughter near her heart.

Five years later, a young girl with black hair tied at the bottom like her mothers smiled charmingly up at a tall taiji-ya.

" 'Kaa-san," she said sweetly. "Can I go t' Shippo's hut? He told me Ka-me was gon' be there t'night."

Sango smiled at her daughter, and knelt down.

"Only if I take you and you stay _all night_. You can't go there and then decide you want to come home."

"Hai, 'Kaa-san," the little girl chirped, and rushed off to collect her belongings. The taiji-ya laughed, marveling at her speed. The tiny girl returned, brown eyes sparkling with mischief as her father trailed after her.

"I hear that you two are off on an adventure?" he asked wryly. Sango smiled.

"I'll be back quickly. Kagome's on her way tonight and Kaiyo wants to go meet her. She'll be spending the night at Kaede's."

"Amazing," Miroku gasped, looking at their daughter. "She never lets _me_ go anywhere. How'd you do it?"

The little girl laughed and stuck out her tongue.

"Not telling! Fig're it out on your own!"

The man feigned hurt, but smiled as he hugged his cheerful daughter goodbye. When Sango returned, he slipped an arm around her waist as they went inside.

"She's got your smile," Sango told him when they sat down. "And someone's taught her puppy eyes."

"Shippo, I bet. I think he sees her as a younger sister."

"Hai, and I'm not surprised. They've been partners in mischief numerous times. I can't imagine what she'll be like with a little brother of her own."

"That's right," Miroku said mildly. "Didn't you promise me something like ten or twenty children at one point?"

"I don't remember that," Sango said, looking away.

"Allow me to remind you," the houshi said, pulling her into his lap to nibble at her collarbone. Sango gasped sharply.

"Cheater," she growled, tugging his hair out of the dragon-tail. It fell messily around his face, making him look more like the rouge she often suspected him of being.

Five years ago, she had almost lost this forever she mused absently as she tugged at his robes. Now, it was almost like their marriage was stronger for the incident.

Miroku managed to open her yukata, and had begun trailing heated breath and tiny kisses over her skin. At this point, Sango threw all forms of thinking to the wind and pushed her houshi back, kissing him soundly.

After all, she had much more important things to do than think.

---

Now, I can't even begin to count the number of people who are going to go bonkers on me, screaming in indignant reviews that Miroku would never do this. I would like to take this opportunity to tell these people to hit the back button on their browser. I have NO TIME for people who can't understand that the combination of alcohol and a willing young woman could very well have this effect on a man who has spent his entire life as a philanderer, and not all that long as a married man. I would also like to point out that sake is rather potent, and the two of them went through an entire bottle in minutes.

So I apologize to anyone I have offended, and to those who cannot accept this apology, and seem to think it necessary to insult me, please, go ahead. Flames make the best s'mores. And fangirl repellent.

This story is dedicated to two people. The first is my dear friend Akkiko, who mixed the CD that inspired this story. I refuse to say what song off of said CD it was that started this little work of madness, but I will give you a little soundtrack at the end of this note.

The second is Aamalie. She gets a dedication because she did not totally roast me when I told her about this story, and because she is probably the BIGGEST Miroku/Sango shipper out there.

As well, the sources for this story were:

The Kumo no Su website, which allowed me access to WILD amounts of fanart and fanfiction.

Yakusoku to Negai, which gave me more fanart and fanfiction (hey, I gotta get my perks somewhere!)

The REDBOOK Magazine website, which hosts amazingly well written and understandable articles on Affairs, types of Affairs, and how both husband and wife can get past them.

So yay for those sites, their moderators and affiliates! The last thing is a soundtrack of sorts to this story, which is rather short, but has all the songs that I used to help set the mood, ideas, and style of this story.

My Happy Ending, Avril Lavigne

Terra's Theme, Final Fantasy 6

Field of Innocence, Evanescence

Opening Theme, Kingdom Hearts (Japanese Version)

Ja ne!


End file.
